A tour you don't really want to take
by ThanksIllPass
Summary: Natasha offers a once-in-a-lifetime tour around the Land of Gay and Random a.k.a Stark Tower. Natasha/Clint, Thor/Loki, Steve/Tony, sharp objects/Bruce.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Not mine, which is a good thing, cause I'm obviously an abusive type.

**This is just something really random that wouldn't stop scratching at the back of my mind. Hope you'll enjoy :)**

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Let me tell you something. If you think you've got it hard, try being a woman living with five overly muscled men with issues. You wouldn't last a _day_. Good thing I'm a total screw up, because I would slaughter them in their sleep. Although I've kind of got used to living with them already, I still miss my regular, peaceful life sometimes. You know. Spying, killing people, stuff like that. It's much more safe and quiet. You don't believe me? Of course you don't. Well, see for yourself. Come on. Let's start with the kitchen. Look. It's Tony, installing a camera in the wall, so he can fap to Steve bending over the dishwasher later. Sick bastard still does it alone, because he's afraid he'd be the bottom. And there's Thor, taking out half of our fridge, so he can take it to his room and feed Loki. Poor guy still thinks we have no idea, that he's hiding him in his closet. Okay, let's move on to the living room. Meet Steve, currently in a catatonic state, after discovering the internet. If Tony was any smarter, he'd know that now is his only chance of nailing our precious virgin. But I don't like to meddle. _And_ I think Stark is a total bottom. Whatever. Hawkeye should be in the gym. The only two places he frequents are the gym and my bedroom. So unless you want to watch him sweat, let's go to the lab. Oh, you want to? You wish, bitch. The lab. Here's our cute mascot, Bruce. He's currently working on something I don't care about. It helps him relax, I guess. And I don't blame him, considering how Tony _loves_ to poke him with sharp objects whenever he sees him. Once, he succeeded in pissing Bruce off, and he ended up flying through three or four walls. Without his armor. But he was happy, because we felt a bit sorry for him, and convinced Steve to nurse him back to health. Some men are so easy to please. Anyway, as you can see, our daily lives are pretty boring. For, like, an hour a day. Trust me, something _will_ happen any moment. Just wait.

"I am fed up with being in a closet all the time, Thor! I cannot bear it any longer! They _know_ I am here, you are simply too stupid to acknowledge that!"

"What's going on, Natasha?"

"Nothing, Bruce. Loki finally came out of the closet."

"I thought he was always out."

"No, no. The _actual_ closet. Thor's closet. He finally came out. Maybe he didn't like the food."

"Perhaps. Oh well, it's not like we didn't know he was there. I just hope he won't cause any trouble. I am a little grumpy today."

"Woman!"

"Yes, Loki? Oh, have you gained weight?"

"No! Have I? This would better be a bad joke of yours, woman. Now, could you explain to _this oaf,_ that all of you were completely aware of my presence, ever since _this imbecile_ brought me here? I am already desperate enough to ask you a favor, so _please_ do not add to my suffering. I am sure we can come to agreeing on an adequate form of payment later."

"Is this the truth, lady Natasha?"

"Yes, Thor, we knew all along. You aren't exactly the most discrete man alive. Certainly not in bed."

See how he blushes. See how the other one smirks. Smug bastard and a retard. A match made in heaven. Or Valhalla or whatever, if you will. This is sickeningly sweet. I will need a good hetero screw later, to pound these crushingly gay images out of my head. I need it every night, to be honest. Oh, here comes Tony. Done with the installations, I see. Oh no, he brought his screwdriver. I bet you twenty bucks, he'll try to poke Bruce with it. Maybe he's trying to hide his bottom-ness with it, like with everything he does basically, at least in his own eyes. Ah, he poked him. Now Bruce is all over the place. He _did_ say he was grumpy today. But I don't like to meddle. _And_ I like seeing Stark getting hurt. Whatever. Let's grab the Norse lovebirds and take Steve someplace safe, since he can't move by himself yet. The internet _is_ scary, when you think about it.

"Hello, Captain Rogers! Let us go for a stroll, yes?"

"No, Thor. I don't want to live on this planet anymore..."

"That, too, is fine. We shall take to Asgard."

"Is the internet there?"

"Whatever you are speaking of, my friend? This is the first I have heard of such thing. If you are so afraid of this _internet_, I assure you, you shall be safe in Asgard. Now, let us go. Sir Bruce is in his green form, and trying to annihilate sir Tony, as we speak."

"What? Did Tony poke him again?"

"Indeed he had, now get up, maggot."

"What is Loki doing here?"

"He came out of the closet."

"Oh. Is Tony wearing his armor?"

"I believe he is not, my friend. Please, we need to hurry."

"But Tony will get hurt if he's not in his armor! He's so small!"

"That was funny."

"Natasha! At least _laugh_, if you think this is funny! Which is _not_."

"Sorry. Not really."

"He himself is at fault, maggot. If you wish to live, then follow us."

"No! I have to save Tony!"

Oh, fantastic. More gayness, and of the heroic kind, too. At least he got over the internet. Everything's well, etc. I just hope he won't go change in the tights first, because that would be too much. Steve is generally nauseating. He's worst than a saint, because he's good-looking. He's blinding with his _goodness_, really. Only Tony would be scum enough to want to corrupt him. And Loki, if he still had any interest in anything. Which he doesn't have, because it's pounded out of him four to five times a night. I almost feel sorry for him. Almost. Oh, Steve and Tony are back. More or less intact. Less than more. Of course, Tony doesn't have the decency _not_ to grope Steve's ass, almost as if he wasn't a damsel in distress here, ungrateful bastard. Oh, whatever. Finally, we can go somewhere, and wait for Bruce to calm down. Maybe this shawarma place. Hopefully, it'll be less awkward than the last time. Did I forget about something? I don't think so. Alright. Thanks for coming by. Not really. Get lost.

Extra:

When Hawkeye finally emerged from the gym, the whole place was dark and quiet. He heard something move, and he cursed himself for leaving his bow and arrows in the gym.

"Hello? Is anybody here? Nat? Guys?"

Then he heard a low growl, and gulped.

"Oh. They left me with the Hulk. Again..."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Still not mine.**

**Ugh, I don't know, I didn't plan on it. It just happened.**

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Oh, it's you again. Imposing much? Are we _that_ interesting? Okay, I know we are. Saving the world in a really bad-ass style, and stuff. Oh, you meant the part about us being perverted and mentally unstable is what's interesting, I see. Well, I can't deny it. Not when Steve is trying to push Tony off of his lap, and Loki is making cute little braids in Thor's hair. Yes, that's right. Loki is now officially out of the closet. He eats with us, watches TV with us, torments Coulson with us. He's a part of family now. Except, he doesn't help fighting the crime. Far from it even. He goes to every villain he can gain access to, and sells his services, like a whore he is. But he's a fugitive, and he's adopted, so we just have to keep him. Because we're nice like that. And Thor's delighted. We, not so much, because now, they do it all the time. Everywhere. And I mean _everywhere_. Not like your regular 'on a kitchen table' or 'in the middle of a hallway'. No. 'In Tony's workshop' like, and 'in Bruce's lab' like. Apparently, Loki has taken to heart my innocent comment about his weight, and tries to lose it by exercising the only way he knows, that doesn't argue with his aristocratic upbringing. I found myself not talking to him more than necessary after that. Actually, all of us try to avoid talking to him. "I beg of you to be understanding, and attempt at offering kindness," Thor says. "He is fragile." Only Steve listens. Because he's a frigging saint. And Tony. Because he's quite fond of the way Loki's thinking, especially when it comes to Steve. According to Loki's logic, Steve must be exceptionally _repressed_ after spending decades frozen in ice. And does Tony like that. So, basically, Stark makes Loki stuff he can later sell to our enemies (counterproductive, if you ask me) in exchange for working Steve up, and providing Tony with wet dreams. And does Thor hate that. I hope Loki enjoys his punishments. Actually, I am somehow positive that he does. Bad, bad, _bad_ mental image. Look at him. Leaning over Steve the second he succeeded in getting rid of Tony, whispering wicked lies with his evil-spouting mouth, making Steve blush seven different shades of red, the sly viper. You wanna know what perversions Loki is feeding Steve's mind with? Of course you do. I am not even surprised. After all, I live with Steve's number one fangirl. Yes, I do mean Tony.

"You know what also feels _marvelous_, maggot? When his tongue-"

Okay, we're leaving. I don't feel like listening to this. _Ever _again. He makes me sick. Doesn't he make _you_ sick? No? How come? Am I the only sane woman left in the whole world? Oh, I'm glad you see the irony.

"Natasha!"

"What do you want, Stark? You make me sick, too."

"What did I do?"

"You were born."

"Oh, yeah, sorry about that. But it was a long time ago, and it really wasn't my fault! I thought we were past that..."

"What do you want, smart-ass?"

"I want you to spy on someone for me."

"Is it Steve?"

"Why would you automatically assume I want to spy on Steve? I'm hurt."

"Then who is it?"

"It's Steve. Wait! Please! Natasha?"

I am about to get irritated. I have to find Bruce. I want to drink Bruce's herbal tea, he always says it calms him down. By the way, are you, by any chance, qualified to replace me on the position of an Avenger? Too bad. Do you, perhaps, know a really vicious villain I could annihilate to vent my gradually piling up frustrations? No, a mean bitch from your school doesn't count as a villain. Really?

"Bruce! Tea! Now!"

"Did Tony ask something weird again? Or was it Loki this time?"

"They're both starting to annoy me. I'm not sure which one I dislike more. Which one do you dislike more?"

"Oh well, it's a tough choice... I mean, Loki did try to rule over our planet, but it was just that one time. Tony, on the other hand, pokes me with sharp objects several times a week. I really can't decide, Natasha."

"I understand. Which one do you think Steve dislikes more?"

"Steve haven't disliked anyone since Red Skull. Besides, he _likes_ Tony."

"Ugh, don't remind me. I can't fathom why."

"Probably the same reason Thor likes Loki. And you and Clint... uh... you know. Because you're all insane."

"I don't like Clint. I just sleep with him."

"Like I said, insane."

"Please, is Clint even that likable?"

"Natasha, he moved out so Loki could get out of the closet, because he was afraid he'd kill him in his sleep, and make Thor sad. Tell me it's not cute."

"Oh yeah, I thought something was missing here... When did that happen?"

"Jesus. Here's your tea. I don't get you. "

That's why I am so irked lately. That's why I can barely cope with what's going on here. I am cut off my daily dose of good, hard, hetero sex! Damn you, Barton... I'll find you, and castrate you.

"So what, you want to sleep with Clint, too?"

"No."

"That was convincing. So would you like to sleep with me?"

"I think even _you_ would be a little startled with closing your eyes on me and opening them to the other guy's rape face."

"Oh, right. Shame."

"Lady Natasha! I have been looking all over the vicinity for your person! I request your immediate aid!"

"Not now, Thor, I'm having tea with Bruce."

"But sir Tony and my brother are in the middle of a feud! And brave Captain Rogers appears to be shedding _manly_, may I state, tears in the corner of the chamber.

"So Loki made Steve cry, and now Tony wants to kick his ass. Same old, same old. They're some weird sort of grown ups, they can handle it themselves. What's the worst that could happen? Tony flies out of the window, and Loki gets hulk'd. Been there, done that.

Oh my, this tea really does sooth my nerves. I see everything from a right perspective again. Bruce is giving me a disapproving look, and Thor seems genuinely worried. And what's fantastic about it is, I don't care. I don't care anymore. It's like it used to be. This is amazing. I haven't been this excited since... never. Ah, I feel great. I have my priorities right back on the track. Find Barton, have sex with him for the last time before I castrate him (because I have Bruce's tea now), and go back home after Loki and Tony are finally finished, crying in Thor's and Steve's arms, respectively. You're not going with me. You're not staying here, either. Why the hell did I even let you in, in the first place? You took advantage of my temporary mental instability and sneaked in. So scramble, before I take you for a spy, and question you until you're not able to talk at all. Ever again. Be glad I'm in a good mood. _Fangirls_. Preposterous, really.

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**Wow, I managed to sneak in some really depressing stuff. At least for me. Because Bruce always depresses me. That's why I love him. I love you, Bruce. _Love_ you.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Still not mine.**

**Ugh, it's less "making them do funny and absurd things" and more "venting my frustration because Steve and Tony still haven't got married" so... You've been warned. Enjoy!**

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We're playing poker tonight. Nothing dangerous, malicious, or retarded. Nice and safe game of strip poker. What? I said it won't be retarded, not that it won't be perverted. I mean, it's still _us_. Thor's getting better at it. Of course, he still sometimes makes up his own rules, calls bluffing "blatant lies, that shall not be forgiven," or demands acknowledging his "pair of knights' supremacy over small poker, because there is no way, that five numbers would defeat two mighty warriors." But whatever. At least it's more fun this way. Loki is the one who laughs at him the most, but he doesn't know we all notice his relief, when Thor makes a fool out of himself before he has a chance to do, or ask the same. He sometimes shifts from hilariously stupid to adorably stupid like that. The first time we asked him to play, he refused, appalled, mocking Thor, who was losing almost as spectacularly as his naked body presented itself during the course of losing. If there's something at which Loki sucks even more than at winning, it's hiding his jealousy. So, of course, he joined the game, and lost so beautifully, I couldn't help but smile a little. Especially when his loss meant he had to clean the tower for a week. In a kitten apron. And two ponytails. I have pictures. Never even cross my mind to sell them, that's how gratifying they are. He hardly ever plays now, though. I guess even _he_ knows when to quit. Right. Tony urges us to play already. He can't wait to see Steve undress, obviously. As usual, Bruce weasels his way out of this, claiming he's much better off without additional noise and heated emotions involved, and we allow him, even though we know it's just too much stress for him to bluff, because he makes some kick-ass snacks. And it's sweet that he sneaks in some good advice for Thor from time to time.

"I do wonders who will emerge victorious this time!" booms Thor.

"That means 'win', honey."

"I _know_, Tony. Why do you always explain only the things said in a sophisticated language, instead of contemporary slang or scientific jargon, which is what I actually _need_ explained?"

"But you always say you want us to speak English."

"Yes, and apparently you and I see English as completely different languages."

"But we don't need words, do we? We understand each other without them, right?"

"Oh, but we do. Especially a word 'no'. I would very much like you to understand _it_."

Wow, Steve has gotten a bit edgy. Maybe he's on his period. Because it can't be that he stopped being absurdly oblivious to Tony's intentions, can it? That would only happen after Bruce got wasted and hulked out in a strip club. Or after Loki baked us cookies that weren't actually poisoned. Steve has to be oblivious, he's Steve. Steve's oblivious and ever-blushing. Steve.

"Looks like someone suddenly doesn't dig PDA, huh?" Clint chuckles. "Still, all this UST is stifling. Time to do something about it, eh, Nat?"

"_Now_ would be the perfect moment to explain, Tony."

"I do believe I am familiar with the term PDA, my uneducated friend! My brother is not fond of it either, sadly."

"Oh, shut up, you oaf. No one in their right mind _likes_ public display of affection." Loki thinks no one in their right minds likes _dogs_, too, but whatever.

"Only if it's an elderly couple. Right, Cap?" Tony is such a suck-up. Gross.

"Or lesbians. Right?" Clint actually waits for someone to high-five him. Moron.

"Clint. You're talking to a guy who could destroy a city after _thinking_ of lesbians, two couples of men so gay for each other it hurts, and me, the straightest woman alive, to even the score. Think before you speak, for once."

Thor looks confused, and Loki is apparently disgusted. Tony chuckles like an idiot he is, and Steve is just blushing. Always blushing. I guess that's where all my girlishness went. I can see no other explanation. Clint lowers his head, and asks if we could just start playing. A great idea, if you ask me. But Steve asks about UST, voice trembling, like he knows he doesn't want to know, but he wants to know anyway. "Unresolved sexual tension." Bruce deadpans from his corner, and now it's Steve's turn to be confused. Of course he would be. People should write M.A. dissertations on Steve's obliviousness. Like, seriously. Because not noticing some guy pining after you is one thing, but not noticing _you_ are pining after some guy is _a whole new level_ of oblivious. And only Steve could pull that off. It has to _stop_. I've just decided. We will let Tony win tonight. Put Steve as a prize somehow and let him win. Rape is love, right? He doesn't even have to pay us. Because then all of this, _this thing_ between them, will be over. They'll screw _this_ out of each other, and everyone will live happily ever after. It's actually surprising I have managed to live through this for so long. Never took myself for a masochist. More of a sadist, really, ask Clint. I don't care _how_ they handle this, as long as they will, because, really, no more of this, _ever_ again. I have my limits. All of us have. Poor Stark definitely has. So I just have to make Steve leave the room for a while, and _fix_ this madness. And I will. Watch me. To _be_ continued.

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**That's what she said.**

**As always, thank you for reading, and feel free to tell me what I did wrong _this_ time ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: NOT MINE**

**Oh my, that took me a while... Omg what am I doing? I just poured all my clintasha feels (because I feel threatened by the upcoming Winter Soldier movie) and tony feels (because, well, I basically breathe Tony) here, and with every chapter it accidentally becomes more stony then I originally intended...**

**Sorry.**

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Listen, I didn't _fail_, alright? I just... _haven't succeeded, yet_. And it is completely not my fault. I couldn't do anything. Loki. _Loki_ won Steve. I know _why_ he did it, the venomous scumbag, I don't know _how_. I mean, he can't play poker! How did he manage to win? Or rather, deceive us into thinking he utterly sucked at this game? We're the Avengers, you'd think it takes a bit more to trick us. At least for Loki. I _will_ have my revenge. Right after Stark. I believe in him (after all, I am a romantic... deep, deep down, where it doesn't show, and you haven't heard it from me). I know Stark will get his revenge. As soon as he emerges from his workshop, where he's been hiding the past week, since the night Steve and Loki spent together gods-know-where doing gods-know-what, because neither of them will _talk_ about it, just Steve blushing at Loki's knowing smirks and all that, and I _really_ hope Tony is down there engineering a perfect weapon. Or a love potion. Or I would have to kill _many_ more than just one person. And I don't do _pro bono_. Or maybe I do, I just don't like it much. Anyway, here I am, drinking my morning coffee with _you_, waiting for the team to show up and ruin my day even more. With their _problems_. And they seem to have them a lot more, since I forced Clint to come back to the tower. So maybe I already started getting my revenge on Loki, even before he deserved it, what is it to you? Believe it or not, seeing Loki duck his head _every single time_ he passes Clint in the hallway, and run in the opposite direction with silent 'Thor' on his lips, is not _that_ gratifying. Oh well, maybe it is. But that's not why I brought Clint back. But it's also not because I missed him. What are you talking about, I never said I was a romantic. You either lost your mind, or forgot I know forty one ways of ending your life with that coffee mug. Twenty six, if empty. Alright? Back to problems. There's someone in the tower. No, I mean, beside us. Someone who makes a lot of mess, and eats a lot of food. And considers _everything_ food. We already checked if Bruce doesn't have some green mystery woman in his closet/lab/garden, and he _doesn't_. And Jarvis hasn't detected an extra human being/mutant/ghost. Ridiculous, but we have some really expensive stuff here that suddenly started getting eaten, you know? And _shoes_. Oh, the shoes... Anyway, my problem, not theirs, boring. Moving on. Oh, look, there's Clint. All "bed hair" and "sleep on his eyes" and "I was up whole night, and I don't even care, because I had too many orgasms" and... Oh, Bruce. Bruce is important. Bruce is the only one who's seen Tony this week. Bruce.

"Status?"

"He's alive."

"Who's alive?"

"Your boyfriend, Steve. Not that you care."

Aw, he stops at the door and blushes. No, seriously. This has gotten old a long time ago. And yes, that's why I brought Clint back. He's vital to my mental comfort. More precisely, his penis is vital to my mental comfort. Yes, you heard me. _A healing penis_. Every fangirl's dream. But don't expect me to be sorry I'm not a guy. Beggars can't be choosers, little girl.

"Stark still down the workshop? What's he doing there, anyway?"

"I don't know, Barton. I have some... expectations, but I honestly don't know. He's a woman scorned now, we can't do much about this. Oh, please, Steve, you don't have to leave, it's not like we hate you more than yesterday, or that we hate you _at all_. We're not here to blame or judge. Your penis, your choice."

"Uh, Natasha, trust me when I say, I am a doctor after all, that penises have something called _heart_ attached to them."

"What are you talking about, Bruce? Clint. Is that true?"

"No. Don't listen to him. Ever. Stay on the Dark Side. We have cookies. And NSFW."

"Natasha. We've talked about this. You've already acknowledged they have brains attached. Come on. We were making progress, don't let it go to waste."

Clint and I snort. So does Steve, but the difference is, that Steve snorts _at_ me, and Clint snorts _with_ me. That's why he's my favorite. That, and his penis. And that's why Steve is my least favorite person, even more than Stark. Tony only has an Annoying Everything, but Steve... Steve has a Disapproving Look. And a Disapproving Frown. And a Scowl. And Everything. Yes, a Disapproving Everything. I very much prefer to be annoyed than disapproved. Yes, I have indeed just implied I like Loki more than I like Steve and Tony. Get over it. I did. Oh, speak of the Norse god. Yes, I am glad you see what I did there. Good for you. Now, watch. This is going to be good.

"Thor, let us come back in later hour..."

"DO NOT BE FRIGHTENED, BROTHER! THE GOOD ARCHER NO LONGER HOLDS GRUDGES, AM I CORRECT?"

"Not before the third coffee, right, Clint?"

"FRIEND TONY!"

"Yeah, yeah, behold, Tony Stark is done crying, ready to come back to life as soon as he acquires some of your tasty beverage."

"You're so bad at imitating Thor speech, Tony..."

"Cap."

This is awkward. See? They just... stare at each other. No, that's not what is awkward about it. They stare at each other whenever they are in the same room. What's awkward about it is that there's no eye sex. Actually, it's not even awkward, it's plain disturbing. Bruce, oh, that wonderful person, clears his throat, and puts a steaming mug on the table.

"Here's your coffee, Tony. You want to drink it here with the rest of us, or...?"

"Nay, I thank thee, forever loyal science bro, I'll just take it down with me, and... you know. Convert my existential anguish into a work of technological genius."

"Tony..."

"'S fine, Cap. That's how I roll. You'll get a present when I'm done there. Everyone will. Catch you later, guys. Thanks for the coffee."

Yeah... Yeah, I saw that, too. Tony Stark being... polite. He used a _T word_! If I had a heart, it would probably break. Everyone looks uncomfortable. Well, everyone except you and Steve, you two look devastated. And Loki... Loki looks pissed. At Steve. What the hell?

"Let us leave, Thor. I cannot withstand to be in the presence of the insect who so solemnly wasted all the time and effort I sacrificed for him."

"Okay, that was weird. Any idea what the Yellow Horns meant?"

Steve just glares at Clint for speaking, grunts in frustration, and storms out of the kitchen. And Tony screams in his workshop.

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**Oh, and what's this? A pathetic attempt at suspense. That's adorable of me. It'll get better. Or less feelsy at least. New chapter in a couple of days, I hope. Also, it will probably be the last. Thanks for reading, as usual :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER: STILL NOT MINE. **

**It's a bit longer, because it's a definite end. So thank you all for taking the tour :)**

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"What the hell, Stark? What happened?"

"My workshop... ruined... I need a drink... Or two. Possibly seven."

The workshop _is_ ruined. No, Bruce was with us the whole time. Besides, it's a different kind of ruined. It's more messed up than smashed up, more Green-Goblined up than Hulked up.

"JARVIS, wast the hell _was_ that? I want answers, _now_!"

"It was a raccoon, sir. It entered the workshop while you exited."

"And you didn't notify me, because?"

"I didn't want to interfere with you getting a life, sir."

"You... what?"

The first one to start giggling is Bruce. Then it's everyone plainly laughing their asses off. No, it's not a smile, I have a cramp in my jaw. Get lost. Stark looks as if he's about to cry. We're not exactly helping. Bruce wipes his tears and clears his throat.

"JARVIS? Is that also the reason why you didn't notify us a few days ago? You waited for the raccoon to _shoo_ Tony out of the workshop?"

"What do you mean shoo? I'm not shooed. Consider me un-shooed. I'm staying here."

"Oh? And you're completely fine with the fact, that there's a raccoon in the tower, getting away with messing up your _mecca_, and awarding itself with your food, even?"

"Next arrow you shoot, Barton, explodes in your face. And... glitters you. And gives you ED. How 'bout that? I'm staying here, you catch it."

"No."

"I'm sorry, agent Romanoff, I don't think I heard you?"

"You catch it with us, Stark, or you're not leaving here for, like, ever. How long do raccoons live, anyway? It might sneak in when you open the door."

"It's a conspiracy."

"AYE, INDEED IT IS, FRIEND TONY!"

Oh, look! It's a raccoon! Damn, it's fast. And everyone just stares at Tony, while the evil ball of fluff sneaks out of the workshop. Ah, we're so cute when we're being stubborn. And Stark is so not cute when he's pouting.

"I'm gonna kill it. And then I'm gonna kill all of you. And then I'm buying all the raccoons in the world and killing them. I _so_ can afford it."

Steve gives him his Disapproving Frown, but keeps his mouth shut. Wise decision. Tony just pushes his way upstairs without a word. So we follow. Great. I haven't been on a good mission for at least two weeks. We're hunting a raccoon, aren't you excited? Pf. So you obviously haven't seen hunting Avengers style. Just don't get in a way, you may lose a limb or two. I am so not shitting you.

We've caused more destruction in half an hour than the raccoon caused in half a week. And then some more. There are several holes in the walls, I think Mjolnir is still stuck in on of them. There was a small fire in the hall. Loki swears it wasn't him, and it wasn't, it was me, but how can I come clean, when Hulk is so eager to punish Loki for my crime? Would you? Oh well, then you're a better person than me. I don't fell bad about it at all. It's also a part of my revenge. I think Clint broke his leg. It's not like he needs it all that much, so who cares. I can carry him around just fine. What, is that weird? Yeah, I thought it wasn't. Anyway, we took some damage, the tower took damage, Stark's ego took damage. But at the end of the day we have it cornered. Steve looks sad. He probably doesn't want to see the raccoon skinned. Or Tony retreating to the workshop after all this is over. I hope the thought of sabotaging the operation to prolong it won't cross his mind. You think he wouldn't do that, but I know he would. He could always say he did it because it's wrong to abuse animals, and everyone would still love him all the same. If not more. But I know the truth. I see right through him. He's evil just like the rest of us. Trust me. Anyway, look at it, look at the evil ball of fluff! It's so cute, and ballsy, and not at all scared, just eating my shoe... Wait, what, my _shoe_?

"Shoot it, Clint. Shoot it _now_!"

"I can't, Nat. It's so cute, look at it!"

"It's chewing on my Prada, Clint. If you don't shoot it now, _I_ will be the one to give you ED. Shoot it. Stark, tell him to shoot it!"

"Barton. Listen to me. It's not cute. Not cute at all. Look. It's a full-fledged super-villain. See? It even wears a mask! And we all know what that means. It has something to hide. Mainly, the fact, that it is, in fact, not cute _at all_. It's a fact. See? Facts, Barton, _facts_! You have to trust me on that. Super-villain. Open your eyes, and see it the way the rest of us see it. Right, guys?"

"HULK CUDDLE!"

"Okay, so see it the way the rest of us, minus Hulk, see it."

"Let's not kill it, Tony, please, it's adorable."

"I AGREE WITH THE GOOD CAPTAIN, FRIEND TONY. IT IS INDEED VERY PLEASING TO MY EYES AND I DO NOT WISH TO SEE IT SLAIN."

"I support Clint Barton. I am making my amends. Forgive me, Tony Stark. Also, I did not cause that fire."

"Okay, fine! Don't listen to them, Barton. Look. The two most important people in your life want you to shoot the raccoon. The person who gets you laid, and the person who keeps you alive. I am the one keeping you alive, for the record."

"Actually, both would be me, Stark."

"Whatever. The point is, Barton, you have to shoot the raccoon. It's eating the food mommy makes. Okay, buys. Alright, pays people to do it. That's beside the point. The point is, no pressure, but shoot it already!"

"Daddy, what do I do, mommy wants me to shoot the raccoon, but I don't want to!"

"THE GOOD ARCHER IS ADDRESSING YOU, GOOD CAPTAIN. PLEASE, PASS YOUR ANSWER."

"Oh. Me? Oh. Yeah, sorry. Um... I really don't know, Clint. I mean, I don't want it dead. But I don't want Tony unhappy. And I don't want Natasha angry. And... I really don't want to decide... I..."

"God damn it, Clint, shoot the damn animal right this instant!"

Oops. I might have accidentally scare the raccoon off. I shouldn't have slammed my fist at the table, should I? I don't want to open my eyes. I can hear Stark wailing. He's so gonna cut off my allowance. I don't want to look at Steve. Ho probably looks smug. He looks smug, doesn't he? No, he looks relieved. That's even worse. Damn it, I have to kill something. I'll start with Clint. You don't want to watch this. Shoo.

Five days have passed, and we haven't captured the raccoon. We haven't even seen it. Some Avengers. I pity us. Do you pity us? You should. Let's go see Tony, maybe he came up with something. Yes, he is in his workshop, but he's only been there for about three hours. At least the raccoon _did_ shoo him out of his workshop. Also, there is a possibility that it's no longer here. I mean, I haven't lost another shoe so far. That would be pathetic if it just left without us doing any avenging, but not unwelcome, nonetheless. Beggars and choosers, and all that. Anyways, Tony. Tinkering, as usual. Wait, is that...

"Is that the raccoon, Stark?"

"Huh? Sorry, can't hear you over the sound of me being awesome. That, and AC/DC."

"Stark, there is a raccoon sleeping on your workbench. You haven't drunk enough coffee or something?"

"I know it's here."

"I'm not following. In fact, I don't care. Just hand over the raccoon and no one gets hurt."

"No. Bucky stays here."

"What? Wait. Waitwaitwaitwait. You want the raccoon here. And you haven't told us. And you named him. And you named him _Bucky_. What alternative reality is this, and how did I get here?"

"Just go away, Natasha. All the shoes you've lost should wait at your doorstep by now, so just go and enjoy them. Shoo."

"I don't understand. You wanted it dead as much as I did. Explain."

"We _bonded_, alright?"

"You bonded."

I blink. What more there is to do than blink? Something's not right here. The workshop is restored to its original state, so it's not ruined, just messy. Dummy is running around in circles, because someone put a t-shirt over its head. It's a nice white t-shirt. As in... not Stark's nice white t-shirt. Oh, I see. We're leaving.

"Fine, Stark. I keep the shoes. You keep the raccoon. Bond all you like. Oh, and I can see your foot, Steve."

No, it's not jaw cramp. It's a smile. A triumphant smile. Loud _thunks_ followed by pained _ow's _do that to people.

* * *

**Okay, that's it! The end. La fin. El final. Thank you for staying for so long!**


End file.
